


Runaway

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [20]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drug Use, F/M, Feelings Realization, Panic Attacks, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22833154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: February 20. Needles: Whether your character hates them, finds them immoral, or faints at the sight of them. Tell us about a medical situation involving needles.
Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor
Series: Fallout February (Reddit Daily Prompts) [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621144
Kudos: 11





	Runaway

That was the first time he said her name, holding her hand with an understanding she wasn't used to from soldiers — however Danse was different from all the soldiers she knew in her life; even from Nate. He didn't flaunt victories, he didn't pretend to be better than everyone else — instead he took the time to share his doubts, offer his help. She knew that when she was reprimanded, it was justified — probably she's done something stupid again in a chem induced haze. 

It wasn't a solution, Nora mused, twirling the last of her of Calmex between her fingers, but it helped — it was easier to shoot herself up with a dose of whatever she came across than deal with the answers she found. Yet she hesitated, Danse's words replaying in her mind — _I'm here for you. Whatever you need_. It's been two days since and she slipped away in the middle of the night, holing up in the Rexford — she knew Hancock wouldn't give her out. The tip of the needle grazed against her exposed forearm, finding the right spot among the dozen or more puncture marks — one more wouldn't matter and it's not like there was anyone to stop her. 

"Nora." She jerked on the couch, almost dropping the syringe — it was just her mind playing tricks on her. It took her a few deep breathes to steady her trembling hands — ripping open a vein or wasting the last of her chems didn't sound appealing. She focused on her pale skin again, the blue of the veins popping out with the sharp contrast. "Nora, don't." 

_Danse couldn't be there_ , Nora told herself, putting a little pressure onto the tip of the needle — not enough to break her skin yet. There were hurried steps behind her, probably another illusion — she was alone and no one knew where she disappeared to. The fingers wrapping around her wrist however felt real, gripping her strong enough to make her whine in discomfort — the last thing she needed was a fight with a strung out junkie. 

"Nora, please, listen to me." She blinked up at the face that now swam into her view; soft, black hair, a heavy stubble and warm, brown eyes — Danse was there after all. It was hard to recognize him, ditching power armor and the orange uniform for a pair of jeans, an old t-shirt and the jacket she mostly saw on the Brotherhood's aviators. He didn't look half bad though but she couldn't bring herself to fully appreciate the sight — she was supposed to be angry at him for taking the chem away. But then why wasn't she? 

_She loved him_ , was the short answer, _she couldn't be angry at Nate either when she was smitten with him_. But the flirting wasn't supposed to lead to anything, to develop into more — that was just how she was. She enjoyed how he stammered and blushed when she just barely implied something improper — it was for her personal entertainment. _Only it wasn't for a while now_. Nights where she wondered what would happen if Danse stopped hiding behind the rules and responded in kind became more frequent and when he reprimanded her, it stung more — it started to matter what he thought of her. 

"I don't know what they told you in the Institute or how much the truths hurt but you're better than this." _No, she wasn't_ , Nora wanted to tell him, _she used chems even before the bombs_. She's been fighting anxiety in college and she almost relapsed after Shaun was born, too. She really wasn't better than this. Nora even doubted that she was worth all the trouble he went through to find her — the Brotherhood was probably better off without someone with an over-reliance on chems. "Nora, I know you're strong enough. And you have me on your side." 

Danse had so much faith in her, even more than she had in herself — and the implications made it hard to think. Her mind reeled with thoughts; fear, doubt and anxiety clashing over her like waves. _No, the feeling of suffocation was real_. She shoved at Danse, stumbling across the room to the only window. Her hands were trembling, fingers too numb to grab the lock. There was a sharp pain in her forearm, just a second — her eyes blankly staring down at the syringe. It was better, with the drug slowly spreading in her system and her forehead resting against the cool glass of the window. 

"Nora." His voice was soft, the same tone when he offered his help — this probably was beyond what he meant by anything though. A weak smile flickered across her face, her nerves too frazzled still to find humor in it. She turned back to him, biting her lip — she was hesitant; Danse was probably disappointed in her now. "Hey, are you all right?" 

That was difficult to answer. The short answer was no, she felt like shit but the Calmex worked so she was stable. Her eyes finally met his gaze but it wasn't holding what she expected — he just looked worried and tired. She glanced away, averting her eyes to the ground; she felt guilty — _she was constantly giving Danse extra work, wasn't she?_ He didn't need to come after her, search places god-knows-where — yet he was there, making sure she wouldn't make the wrong decisions. Maybe that last part didn't really work, seeing how Danse was the one who finally stabbed the needle into her arm — but it was an emergency. 

"I'm sorry, Danse." She took his outstretched hand, taking a slow step, then one more — like a toddler walking on it's own for the first time. Shaun crossed her mind, gripping onto Danse's jacket with a breath catching in her throat — relaxing after a few seconds. _There was no Shaun anymore_ , Nora reminded herself, _just Father and S9; there was no one waiting for her at the end of her journey, not really_. She snuggled against his side; rules and propriety forgotten in this little corner of the Commonwealth — even more so considering the past five minutes. 

It felt nice, like she went back in time — reminding her of those nights when she woke with a nightmare and her father would hold her. Everything was so simple then — so happy. She was pursuing that same kind of happiness in the face of her losses but it kept eluding her — the chems only helping for a fraction of time. She wouldn't say this was the same but this could be a start — that is if Danse still stood by her. Leaning into the tentative fingers that came to brush against her jawline, Nora peered up at him — offering him a faint smile. 

"We will work this out, Nora."


End file.
